


Cherry Cake

by pinkfire



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Comedy, Early 2000s Vibes, Groping, Kinda Did The Boys Dirty Sorry, M/M, Making Out, Panicked Teen Hendery, roller skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkfire/pseuds/pinkfire
Summary: Liu Yangyang. He drips confidence on everything he does and everyone he touches, breezing through life like he’s in a bright red mustang on an empty highway. One way or another, everyone falls for Yangyang’s charm and pretty looks. If that doesn’t sell them, it’ll be his daddy’s bank account.Hendery’s a fool for drooling and he knows it.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery
Comments: 13
Kudos: 82





	Cherry Cake

Every high school has the _it_ boy, the one who makes heads turn at the sound of his New-Balance sneakers squeaking against the laminated tile of the crowded hallway, the charm on his Nokia antenna jingling against his hip. When he walks through the hall, it’s always a show, his bangs swaying like he’s in slow motion with an industrial fan pointed his direction. All eyes are on him, half of them settling on the bedazzled, apple-shaped pockets taut against his ass.

Liu Yangyang. He drips confidence on everything he does and everyone he touches, breezing through life like he’s in a bright red mustang on an empty highway. One way or another, everyone falls for Yangyang’s charm and pretty looks. If that doesn’t sell them, it’ll be his daddy’s bank account.

Hendery’s a fool for drooling and he knows it.

It’s a Friday night, and Fridays are for roller skating. Almost half the Junior class piles into Electric Hearts (the most popular skating rink for kids at Weishen High), some to actually skate, others to hover by the concession stand and mess around. Hendery is strewn lazily across a chipped wooden bench, roller skate in Xiaojun’s lap as he makes random doodles on it with a blue sharpie. His eyes, hiding behind coke-bottle glasses, are fixated on Yangyang.

Yangyang himself is leaning against a half-wall, laughing with his entourage. The tacky, colorful disco and laser lights play with multiple features. They make his silk-like hair glow, highlighting stray fibers in bright purples and reds, sparkle in the rhinestones on his skates and the pocket area of his tracksuit, catch against the sticky gloss on his lips. Lips are the center of Hendery’s attention right now. Yangyang is sucking on a lollipop, more like playing with it against his tongue, rolling it over the pretty pink muscle before sliding it away, letting his saliva follow it and form a short, wet thread. God, he’s _hot_.

Hendery can almost hear the wet sound as he pops the red candy out from the swell of his shiny lips. In that moment, his foxlike eyes catch Hendery’s. Hendery darts his eyes elsewhere with a furious flush bringing red to the tips of his ears.

The thing is, Hendery isn’t very popular. He blends in with the back walls of classrooms, only hangs out with his best friend, Xiaojun. It makes sense, given that Hendery is a chemistry geek with a Pokémon card collection. He looks the part, with thick frames resting on the bridge of his nose, a boring navy t-shirt with a boring beige button-up on top, a mess of brown hair that falls into his glasses, metal wires glued to his teeth. He’s been wearing braces since middle school.

“You’re _killing_ me, Hen,” Xiaojun groans, eyes still fixed on the phallic shape he’s drawing on the toe of Hendery’s skate. “Just ask him if he wants to skate with you.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No. You; however, have left yours a long time ago.” He points an accusatory marker at Hendery’s nose, nearly dotting it with ink. “Let’s skate,” he suggests and caps his sharpie, slipping it into his breast pocket, nudging Hendery’s foot from his lap. It hits the tacky carpet with a thud. The impish smirk pulled into the corner of Xiaojun’s lips isn’t very promising.

“Okay,” Hendery says. He sits upright and tugs on his laces to make sure they’re secure. It’s a little wobbly when he first stands, the wheels of his skates rolling forward, Hendery’s lanky arms flapping until he can find his balance. Xiaojun laughs.

“Let’s gooo,” he urges, pushing on Hendery’s shoulders.

Before Hendery can roll past Yangyang’s rowdy entourage, he feels a forceful shove on the small of his back, not enough to make him fall, but enough to make him clumsily stumble in the direction of the group, closing his eyes as he catches the edge of the half-wall that borders the rink. He feels warmth between his arms, smells Baby Soft perfume, hears a nervous giggle. Fuck. He’d rather not open his eyes right now, but it would be even weirder if he didn’t. So, he bites his lip and lets his eyelids flutter open.

“Hi there,” Yangyang lilts, his painted nails glittering when he wiggles his fingers. A rosy flush is blooming under the glitter on his cheeks.

It feels like Hendery’s tongue is tied into a knot, tight and useless. He turns to shoot Xiaojun a glare, but he’s whistling innocently and looking elsewhere. A cool, soft finger presses against his cheek, pushing to make him face forward again. “Your name is Hendery, right hottie?”

Holy _fuck_ , he’s about to pop a boner in his jeans. Yangyang knows his name. “Uh, y-yeah.”

Another giggle, and Yangyang is looping his arms around Hendery’s neck. “Wanna skate with me?”

Somehow, he blurts out an eager _yes_ , and Yangyang is lacing their fingers together, pulling him onto the polished wood of the rink. They skate hand-in-hand for a song, Yangyang laughing when Hendery almost falls. A slower, raunchier song buzzes through the speakers, and Yangyang smoothly guides Hendery’s palm onto his hip. There’s a devilish glint in his eye as he glides in front of him, hands still pressing Hendery’s to his hips. Hendery looks like a lost puppy, clueless as to what he’s up to, that is, until Yangyang rolls his ass back, pressing against his crotch. “Oh my god,” Hendery squeaks, fingers pressing against the firm hipbones under the velvet of Yangyang’s tracksuit. The feeling is overwhelming and warm in his veins, channeling toward his dick, making his eyes gloss over and his cheeks burn a furious pink. He might just pass out.

He can hear Yangyang’s laughter over the loud music, feels another roll against him. _Now_ he has a hard-on, straining against his jeans and pressing between Yangyang’s asscheeks. Uh oh.

Yangyang straightens up, leaning his head back against Hendery’s shoulder. His soft hair brushes against his jaw, and a wave of his pretty smell hits his nose. “Ooh, bad boy,” he teases. “Wanna go to the bathroom, baby?” The silky and breathy tone gives Hendery and idea of what’s about to happen. He gulps, loud, feeling like one hundred and fifty degrees.

“Yes!” he says, a little too enthusiastically.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when they roll in, Yangyang perching himself onto the cheap laminate counter, Hendery sliding between his legs. Technically, someone could walk in any minute, but what do two seventeen-year-old boys care?

“You’re so hot,” Yangyang sighs, taking Hendery’s glasses off and placing them down. “So, _so_ hot.”

“You, too. You’re, like, _smoking_.”

Yangyang’s delicate fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him forward until their lips meet. He tastes like cherries, probably the flavor of his lip gloss, and the lollipop from earlier. The gloss makes the kiss wetter and noisier, lip smacking that reverberates against the tiled walls. They can hear the door opening, someone walking in and walking right back out, but whatever. Yangyang slides his tongue into Hendery’s mouth, moving it in ways that shouldn’t even be possible. It makes Hendery let out an embarrassingly loud “mmm,” like he just had a bite of the most delicious cherry cake in existence. His hands are shaky when they latch onto Yangyang’s soft hips.

After a playful lick over Hendery’s braces, Yangyang pulls back, smiling when Hendery chases, pushing his chest back. The hands on his chest start roaming south, grasping onto the fabric of his shirt and hiking it up. “Oh?! Holy _shit!_ ” Yangyang gasps, pressing his cold palms against his abdomen.

“Oh my god, what?”

“You’re ripped! You have a fucking six pack, baby.”

“Oh,” Hendery says. Another, longer “oh,” when Yangyang thumbs over his boner. “I mow lawns.” He hooks his chin over Yangyang’s shoulder and shamelessly uses the mirror to stare at the swell of his ass. The light pink material of his sweatpants is stretched over it, riding down, revealing the waistband of a thong, the light tan that’s definitely the work of a tanning bed (given away by the pale Playboy bunny shape on his hip).

“Wow, you’re so sexy,” Yangyang marvels, cupping Hendery’s crotch in his palm. “You’re big, too!” With his free hand, he holds Hendery’s wrist and guides his hand under the back of his pants, letting him hold the soft, warm globe of his asscheek. Hendery stumbles over his tongue, making incomprehensible, panicked noises. “And adorable,” he laughs, diving in for another sloppy kiss as he sneaks his hand into Hendery’s pants.

The warm, wet sensation of Yangyang’s tongue and lips, combined with the barely-there stroke against his dick, well. An unexpected wave of pleasure rakes over Hendery’s body, making him let out a high-pitched moan, shuddering against Yangyang and holding onto his ass for dear life. He feels a wet, sticky gush in his boxers.

“Did you just—”

“I just jizzed myself I’m so sorry.”


End file.
